


VENTilation

by Kyubey_Kotone



Series: VENTilation [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Depressing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jon's POV, Self-Hatred, Triggers, he just wants everyone to be happy, jon's miserable, please don't read if this will trigger you, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyubey_Kotone/pseuds/Kyubey_Kotone
Summary: Jon's depressed af, so he cries as the weight of everything seemingly crushes him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Slight vent. Jon doesn't die at the end, but based on the writing, you can read it that way.

 

His brain didn’t even know where to begin. He knew they were right. They were always right, he was always wrong. He knew it’d never be okay, and he felt terrible. He was a burden to everyone. He could be happy, but the second he was cut-off, ignored, he could feel it etch into his mind, scratching him, carving the words useless, as if he meant nothing; what he said didn’t matter and it never would. He felt lower than garbage. He felt like the dirt you wash off, and forget. It didn’t matter if they were joking, every joke has its truth. He closed his eyes, attempting to manifest all the will power he had not to cry again. They were right, he was too sensitive.

 

He felt the tears escape his eyes, trailing down his face as he curled in on himself more, his body quivering as he silently cried to himself, hoping no one heard him. It was a constant battle of either attempting to hide his feelings and his roommates cursing him for never being open enough, OR actually crying, letting it all out and being scolded in return. He wished he didn’t have to feel, everything would be easier that way. He wouldn’t be shy all the time, he wouldn’t have panic attacks; he wouldn’t have to deal with all this pain! He just wanted to make everyone happy! Why couldn’t he be enough? Why were his emotions always invalid? Why did they always have to tear him down for feeling?

 

He hated it, he hated it! He felt another wave of shaking take his body, as he became a shivering mess once more, hugging his body as tightly as he could, his nails harshly digging into himself. He hated himself! He wished he didn’t have to deal with all these emotions! Why did everything have to hurt? Every single time they ignore something good he did, or shrugged it off like it was nothing.

 

He felt his chest tighten, restricting him as his breathing became shaky and paced unevenly. He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, heaving, hyperventilating as he cried harder, the tears coating his cheeks, recalling times before when he actually tried to talk about his feelings but got brushed off. Or moments when he tried to be friends with their neighbours. He had tried to be himself, be open about how he was feeling, but as soon as Eduardo caught wind of that, he was told he just wanted everyone to feel sorry for him. He was just speaking his mind, was he really not allowed to just be himself?! He just wanted to be honest. Jon hated that now he carried that with him, every single time he met knew people, or tried to make new friends, he hid everything, worrying that they’d think he wanted attention or worried that they’d feel bad for him. He worried about everything, constantly over analysing every word he heard. He wished so hard he could be like he was before. But that voice of Eduardo, yelling at him, telling him he only ever wanted attention, he wanted everyone to feel bad for him, always stopped him. And Eduardo wondered _why_ he wasn’t the open book he used to be anymore…  

 

He could hear it now, Eduardo’s mocking voice. ‘Oh, poor little Jon didn’t get his way, boohoo, lemme tell everyone how mean Eduardo is now, and make them feel bad for me.’

 

The male scratched his arm roughly in anger, remembering Eduardo calling him selfish for the way he was feeling. He finally, after years of being roommates, spilled how he was feeling. How he felt so useless, worthless.

 

‘You’re such a selfish spoiled brat! You were only put here to take away every ounce of happiness I have! I give you everything, and yet here you are feeling sorry for yourself! You’re just here to take and take and take from me, until there’s nothing left!’ He’d responded, fists balled in anger after hearing that. Jon still to this day could not believe those words had come out of Eduardo’s mouth. His roommate, best friend; the person who was supposed to care for him the most. It hurt, regardless if it’d been a year, two, or more. It still hurt like it was just yesterday.

 

Jon scratched harder. They were right, they were always right. He was selfish. He was so selfish. He just wanted to make everyone happy though. He had a roof over his head, he had food. Why was he so sad? He knew exactly why but it was stupid; It was so stupid to feel. He hated it, just like he hated himself. Even if he were selfish, it still didn’t give Mark the right to have called him selfish and spoiled on his birthday, over a cupcake. Or a week later, getting screamed at by the both of them for being stupid because he misread the map, being reminded and called stupid because he stopped showing his emotions after the last time they got pissed off at him for crying.

 

He felt like he was spinning, when really he was just bawling again, like the selfish piece of shit he was. He could be doing something worthwhile, but instead he’s in his room, crying to himself, reliving bad memories that won't go away or leave him alone. He was just sorry… He couldn’t be more sorry. He was sorry he hated himself, sorry for feeling the way he did, for the things he said. He regretted everything. He was just so sorry.

 

He scratched more, not even thinking as his fingers, nails, dragged up and down roughly, muttering apologies to no one in particular. Why was he this way? He had everything he needed to be happy. He sucked in a breath of air, beginning to wheeze a bit, feeling guilt circle around his gut. The blue shirted male felt guilt for everything. Every time he cried, it was over something Eduardo said. And he just… felt so bad. Eduardo wasn’t the bad guy. Eduardo just wanted him to be happy. Why couldn’t he be happy? Another wave of guilt sent shivers down his spine as he gasped, attempting to get a hold of his breathing. He needed to breathe, he needed to breathe. His arms stung. He was sorry. He was sorry. He was sorry.

 

He was sorry he couldn’t be happy.


End file.
